Withdrawal
by Porthos1013
Summary: Teyla’s withdrawal from the enzyme has painful effects, both physically and personally. McKayTeyla friendship, TeylaSheppard angst, Lost Boys&Hive tag.
1. Chapter 1

Author: Porthos

Spoilers: Lost Boys/Hive

Summary: Teyla's withdrawal from the enzyme has painful effects, both physically and personally. McKay/Teyla friendship (UST if you squint), Teyla/Sheppard angst, Lost Boys tag.

Author's notes: In LB, Teyla says, "They were an hour late delivering our doses yesterday and I felt _awful_." After watching Teyla go through withdrawal with Ronon while on the Hive ship, I wondered if anyone was with Teyla the first time around, on Ford's planet. Thus, this fic was born. Angsty Teyla POV. I've hardly had any experience doing angst, and even less doing Teyla POV, so this is truly a first for me. Hope it doesn't blow up in my face…

oOo

I strive to ignore the rising bile in my throat as I also attempt to ignore my ever-present looming "companions." If only the enzyme they administered were as easily on hand, I would not be feeling this way.

It seems as though I have been sitting here for hours, waiting for my next dose of the Wraith enzyme, although it has more likely been only minutes. I am starting to sweat, and my hands have begun shaking. There is a distant pounding in the back of my mind, and it only adds to my mounting anxiety. I clench my jaw and close my eyes against the tendrils of fire that have begun stinging my insides.

My sense of time seems to slip away as I meditate to dull the pain. The next thing I am aware of is a loud, grating voice interrupting my solace, as well as the return of the pounding in my head.

"What do you mean, there's no more enzyme?" Dr. McKay demands. "I have extremely difficult work to do, and I can't do it if I'm unconscious. Now I'm sure this is difficult for your poor tripped-out brain cells to process, but you have your own do-it-yourself crackhouse here, right? So go back into your little store room and get a couple of syringes full of happy-juice, now!"

McKay's commands seem to fall on deaf ears, as the guard just gives him a brief, listless glance before returning to the game he is playing with the other guard. I can see the beginnings of another tirade, so I decide to speak up before my headache can get any worse. "Rodney," I say, my voice sounding rough, though I can barely hear it past the throbbing in my ears. Even the act of speaking is difficult.

"What?" he shouts, whirling on my position. Immediately, his face softens, and I can see his rage melt away. He blinks at me as though he was unaware of my presence. "Teyla? How long have you been here?"

"I am…unsure." I wince slightly as my insides twist up briefly into a knot, then slowly release.

Rodney sits beside me, and I know without looking at him that he is examining my appearance. "Are you alright?" His fingertips graze lightly over my fists, and I glance down to see that my knuckles are white. It takes several tries, but I am eventually able to relax my hands and press my palms flat to the table in front of me. My breathing has become ragged, and I can feel tendrils of hair sticking to my forehead as sweat drips down the side of my face. When Rodney speaks again, his voice is laced with an edge of panic. "When was the last time you were due for an enzyme dose?"

It is a struggle just to turn my head and meet McKay's worried blue eyes. "I believe it was…some time ago," I manage to croak.

Rodney is immediately at his feet and addressing the guard, a note of urgency in his voice that it did not previously possess. "Look, you need to get her something. She doesn't look so good."

"Can't do it." The guard doesn't even look up from his game.

"I don't see why—"

McKay's outburst is cut short by my stifled cry of pain. I feel a stab of white hot pain rip through my insides, and all thought dies away as I focus on the stars that dance against the black background of my vision. When the pain subsides momentarily, I realize Rodney is calling my name. I open my eyes and am greeted by a hand tightly clasping mine and another on my shoulder. Right now it is the only thing keeping me upright.

"I am fine, Rodney." I squeeze his hand and try to sound strong, despite the waver in my voice.

"Of course, you always look this pale and strung out when you're 'fine.'" Rodney's tone is sarcastic, but his expression is one of barely controlled panic. "We need to get you some enzyme, but Tweedle Dumb and Dumber don't seem too willing to go get it for us."

"There is a batch of enzyme going through the last stages of processing now. We have no choice but to wait." I wipe the sweat from my face with a trembling hand.

"I don't understand, I thought they had an unlimited supply of this stuff!"

I grapple with my rising nausea, but I am eventually able to speak, though my words come between harsh breaths. "The Wraith can only produce a small amount of enzyme in a given time. I believe Aiden's men were a bit overzealous in their use of the drug."

"Greedy bastards," McKay exclaims, although I notice he does not say it loud enough for the guards to hear. "Someday, somebody's going to give them exactly what they deserve."

The thought gives me comfort. "I look forward to that day," I say weakly.

I glance at Rodney, and notice he is gazing at me with a small smirk. I surprise myself when I am able to immediately read his thoughts, although I suppose we have spent enough time together that I should expect this to be second nature by now. I know he expects that I will be the one to give retribution to the guards when the time comes. I feel a flash of pride at Rodney's confidence in my abilities, even as he sees me in such a weakened, frail state. I try to manage a small smile, but the pain grips me again. I have just enough warning to lean away from the table and McKay before the nausea overtakes me, although I am distantly aware of Rodney's hand gently rubbing my back in comfort.

The agony passes, and I must blink a few times to clear my vision. I realize that I am crying, but I don't think I have enough energy to stop the tears. I lean my head against the back of the chair and try to control my shallow breathing. I feel a dry, cool cloth on my face, and I realize that Rodney is using his pocket handkerchief to wipe the tears and sweat from my face. I open my eyes and I see him standing over me, lips drawn into a thin line of frustration and worry, focused on his task. I want to thank him, but I'm too drained, so instead I let my eyelids slip shut.

"What can I do?" I can tell from his voice that he feels useless. He is used to being able to fix things, to take the problem apart and put it back together, and the fact that he cannot help me is irritating him.

I reach up and grasp his wrist as he continues to wipe my face. I pull his hand into my lap, and whisper, "What you are doing is enough." He seems to silently accept this, as he pulls his chair closer to mine and takes my other hand. We sit there for some time, our steady silence interrupted by the sporadic pain of withdrawal. He clutches my hands as we ride out my waves of torment, and he occasionally checks my vitals when I have been still for too long. I pray to the Ancients that my body will soon be returned to my own control.

Eventually, from somewhere outside of myself, I feel a slight pinprick at the inside of my left elbow. The result is almost immediate. I can feel strength returning to my limbs, and the numbness of my mind and body seems to recede into the background. I am still consumed by a dull ache, but it is only enough pain to rival that of a strenuous workout. I glance at Rodney before he is given his dose of the enzyme, and I notice that he too seems pale and shaky, but I am glad that he did not suffer the same withdrawal symptoms. I briefly wonder how I would have coped had I been forced to go through these withdrawal symptoms alone, but I decide not to dwell on that scenario. I am just thankful that Rodney was here with me.

oOo

Author's notes 2: I know that was short, but there's a second part coming up dealing with Teyla and Sheppard's relationship after this whole fiasco. I haven't written it yet, but if you like this part, let me know, and I'll write it. :D


	2. Apologies

Okay, this is where I posted chapter 2, but it had too many technical difficulties and people weren't able to open it for some reason, so now I've posted chapter two as the next chapter, so just continue on to there, and you should be good. Sorry for the inconvenience. :)


	3. Chapter 2

Author: Porthos

Spoilers: Itty bitty one for Trinity, plus obviously Lost Boys and The Hive.

Author's notes: Okay, I pretty much wrote this in my head on my way to work today, (got to find some way to entertain myself for those 30 minute drives), so I'm glad the students I teach just have a work day today, because I really want to write this! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and I also want to say that if you guys are looking for more Teyla/Rodney stuff, I collected quite a bit of it at my C2 called "Astrophysicists do it with a Big Bang." There's a link to it in my profile.

Also, for some reason this chapter keeps getting cut off half way through, so I'm going to try to fix it, but just be patient with me, please. ffnet is probably getting sick of hearing from me by now, but crap like this keeps happening to me…

oOo

I spin to avoid the blow, then wince as Sheppard's strike hits my left shoulder. It is not the first bruise I have received today. As I take a moment to recover from the strike, Sheppard twirls the stick in his hand, grinning smugly. "C'mon, Teyla!" he taunts. "You're slipping. The last time I was able to beat you like this, it was all thanks to Carson's retrovirus."

I roll my shoulders before settling back into my fighting stance. "I thought we were no longer to speak of that incident." The Colonel blushes slightly at the memory, and I am pleased I have at least been able to strike a nerve with words, even if I have not been able to do so with my fighting sticks. He is right, I am not sparring with the energy and skill that I normally possess. I attack with a rapid flick of my wrist, but it seems sluggish and my strike is easily blocked. I feel weak, and I am unable to focus. My muscles are yearning for the strength and power they obtained from the enzyme, and seem unwilling to cooperate without it. Still, I am not willing to admit this to the Colonel. "Perhaps it is not that I am slipping, but that you are improving." I attack with a fierce volley of strikes at his head, shoulders, and hips, but he blocks them all gracefully, and manages to land a hit to my right side. It stings less than usual, and I believe he has pulled that strike at the last moment. I feel foolish knowing he is going easy on me.

"Are you sure it's not something else?" He feints a strike to my left, then attacks right. I am able to block it.

"I am a little tired today, perhaps that is what you mean." I successfully block three quick strikes to my head. Sheppard steps back for a brief moment of rest before plunging into another attack.

"Actually, I was thinking it maybe had something to with the enzyme." A fierce swing from his left knocks my stick from my hand, and it comes to rest several feet away with a loud clatter. As I walk to pick up my weapon, I take a deep breath.

"Perhaps you are right, but you need not concern yourself with it." I answer without looking at him, but I am unable to hide the trace of bitterness that seeps into my words. It does not go unnoticed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" His arms are dropped casually to his side, our sparring forgotten. However, I feel the fighting is just about to begin, and I find myself longing for the release just as my body craves the enzyme.

"I simply meant that it is too late to start worrying about how the enzyme will affect me, since my body is now free of it. That _is_ why you asked me to join you here, is it not?" My words may be gentle, but my tone is not. I allow my frustration surrounding the events of the past weeks to color my words.

Sheppard looks at me, his expression a strange mixture of relief and annoyance. "Well, now that you mention it, how are you feeling?"

"I am fine." My terse answer does little to alleviate his concerns, but I pretend not to notice his discomfort.

"That's not what Beckett said."

I narrow my eyes as I glare in his direction. "You have been checking up on me?" My accusation sounds spiteful, even to my own ears.

"Teyla, I'm just trying to make sure you're okay. I'm concerned about what that enzyme could have done to you."

A snort of harsh laughter erupts from my chest. "Concerned." I spit out the word as if it had left a bad taste in my mouth. "_Now_ you are concerned." His confusion and anger at my response is palpable, but I am loathe to stop now. "Where was such concern a week ago, when we were at the mercy of Aiden and his men?" My voice turns icy, as does my stare. "Or perhaps you would have showed more concern if _you_ had been drugged as well."

Sheppard looks at me gravely, and his voice takes on the low, dangerous tone I have only heard him use on his enemies. "What are you saying, Teyla?"

I do not even blink as I stare him down. "I am saying that you are a selfish man, John Sheppard, and we have all suffered for it."

His fury comes to the forefront at my words. I can see the fire in his eyes, and he clenches his jaw tightly. "I'm not doing this with you right now." He speaks through gritted teeth. "I know you've been through a lot in the last few days, so—"

My stick crashes into the wall inches away from his head, and he freezes in shock. When I speak, my voice is deadly. "What do you know of the events of the past week? You were not even there!"

He is still rattled from the near-miss with my weapon, but he does not back down. "In case you've forgotten, I was there with you on that planet the entire time, trying to get us home!"

I gaze at him doubtfully, allowing skepticism to lace my words. "Where were you when the guards held us down and forced syringes full of poison into our arms? Were you there when they ran out of enzyme, and I felt so awful that I thought I might die? Was that you holding my hand as I sat there, unable to do anything but _wait_?" I feel my hands begin to shake with barely controlled rage, so I ball them into fists and will myself to retain some measure of self-control. The loss of control I felt from the enzyme is still fresh in my mind, but I push the memories away. I will deal with them later. "You weren't there, John. You abandoned us."

He whirls to face me with a stricken expression. "I never abandoned you!"

I close my eyes against his pained features. "It was close enough that we did not know the difference." I pause to breathe, reigning in my emotions. "You were so obsessed with getting Aiden back that you were willing to sit back and let us be force fed the enzyme. I cannot help but think that if you had been getting the enzyme alongside us, you would have felt differently."

Sheppard rakes a hand through his hair in frustration. "Look, don't blame me just because Ford decided I had to be the designated driver. And yes, I was trying very hard to get him to come back to Atlantis with us, but he was a part of my team, and I'll do whatever it takes to get him back."

I feel my temper flare again. "Do _not_ assume that you are the only person who cared about Aiden, Colonel. Not a day goes by that I do not miss him, but I know now that we can never get him back." Sheppard looks away in hurt and resentment. "I know it is painful," I continue, "but we must accept that he is lost to us, and move on. It is your team that needs you now, not Aiden."

We stand this way, in uncomfortable silence, for quite some time. Somehow, I sense that my words have reached him, but he needs time to consider them. I silently move to retrieve my gear, then head for the door. His voice stops me just before I reach it. "Where are you going?"

I look back and try to smile in parting, but fail. I feel all my energy has drained, leaving me exhausted and weary. "I am meeting Dr. McKay at the infirmary, so that I may sit with him while Dr. Beckett runs some tests. He was there with me during my withdrawal, and I am still sorry that I was not able to return the kind gesture."

"Rodney did that?" Sheppard looks incredulous.

I fight to restrain my temper once again at Sheppard's reaction. "I know he made a mistake and that you now have difficulty trusting him, but Rodney has impressed me with his loyalty many times. He has never abandoned his friends when they needed him, including you, Colonel. Perhaps he is not the one who needs to earn back your trust…or mine." I watch Sheppard for a few more seconds to see if my words have hit their mark. Then, without a glance back, I leave, letting the doors slide shut on his expression.

oOo

Author's notes 2: Well, that's it! I hope you guys liked it. I thought the title was pretty good, because just like the last part deals with Teyla's withdrawal from the enzyme, in this part, Teyla "withdraws" from Sheppard. Also, I know Teyla is usually pretty calm and collected, but we've seen that she can have a pretty nasty temper on a few occasions, so I thought that might be fun to play with. Let me know how it worked:D


	4. Epilogue

Here's a little epilogue, by special request. ;) Hope you like it!

oOo

"Teyla," Rodney looks up as I enter the infirmary. "You're late." He says it without accusation, but I feel a little guilty nonetheless. The last thing Rodney needs right now is to feel alone.

I greet him with a broad smile. "I know, but I believe you will forgive me when you see what I have brought you."

His eyes light up as I withdraw my present from behind my back. "Chocolate cake!" Rodney eagerly takes the small plate and holds it as if it were a precious gem. "I thought they were all out! Kavanaugh just came through here claiming that three marines jumped him for the last piece."

I raise my eyebrow playfully. "That is not _precisely_ how it happened..."

Rodney looks up from his plate, and I must stifle a laugh at the sight of a smudge of chocolate icing on his chin. "What do you mean it—" Comprehension dawns in his features. "Teyla, you didn't."

"Dr. Kavanaugh and I had a minor dispute over who could claim rightful possession of the last piece of cake. I believe he found my arguments very…persuasive."

Rodney's eyes widen in shock. "Teyla, he came in here saying he had a broken wrist!"

I roll my eyes. "It was only a light sprain at most. And I cannot help it if he did not take kindly to my suggestion that the cake would not help him maintain his girlish figure." I finish with a shrug and a smile that matches Rodney's.

"Hmm. Insults and sarcasm. You're spending far too much time with me."

I reach up to casually wipe the icing from his chin. "I suppose it is a price I am willing to pay."

He looks at me for a moment as if not really seeing me, and I recognize he is lost in his own thoughts. Whatever they are, he is not willing to share them, as the next thing he says is, "Well, just don't let Carson see me eating this. I'm supposed to be off of caffeine and chocolate for at least another 3 days."

"Not that I really expected you to oblige." Rodney nearly jumps off the bed at the sound of Carson's voice, and the last of the chocolate cake is smeared all over his shirt.

"Carson!" he says, trying to rescue what remains of his dessert. "Don't sneak up on me like that! I think I've had enough of a shock to my system this week, don't you?"

Carson produces the weary, long-suffering sigh that he has perfected since having Rodney as a patient. "Aye, but if you were really as concerned with your health as you seem, you wouldn't be eating that cake now, would you?"

Rodney tries to look innocent, but it is difficult to do when his mouth is full of cake. "Sorry," he mumbles.

I can't help but chuckle at the pair, and Carson shoots me a rueful look as if to say, "Don't encourage him." He has Rodney change into a clean shirt, then runs a few tests. He tells us that it could take quite some time before we get some of the results back, so we should get comfortable for a while. I make myself at home on the neighboring bed, and Rodney and I take comfort in each other's company while we wait for the results. After a time, I feel rather than see Rodney stiffen, and I wonder briefly if I have done something wrong. Then, I follow his eyes to see a familiar figure, and I know the source of Rodney's discomfort.

Colonel Sheppard is standing in the doorway to the infirmary, looking decidedly apprehensive. When he sees us both looking at him, he takes a tentative step forward and smiles weakly in greeting. "Hey. How's the patient?"

Rodney is also looking particularly anxious. Looking at the two of them now, one would not suspect that they had spent many hours in the infirmary together, patiently waiting by each other's bedsides or making mischief. Now, they look very uncomfortable in each other's presence.

"I, uh, I'm fine. I guess."

"Oh, that's good." Sheppard slips his hands into his pockets and begins rocking on his heels.

"Yes, well, Carson hasn't gotten the, uh, the test results back yet, so…"

"But you feel fine. Right?"

"Yes, fine."

"Good." Sheppard pauses, apparently having exhausted his repertoire of small talk. He turns to me a gives me a familiar look, a mix of panic and pleading. He has looked at me like that on many occasions, when he has stuck his foot in his mouth on missions and is expecting me to talk him out of the hole he has dug for himself. Needless to say, this time I will not be helping him, so I just stare back. It is Rodney, not me, who saves him from the awkward silence.

"Why are you here?"

Sheppard looks hurt by the abruptness of Rodney's question, but then quickly hides it behind annoyance. "Well, gee, that new technician is having a birthday party today, so I thought I'd stop by and grab some of those latex gloves to use as balloons. Why do you think I'm here, Rodney? I wanted to see how you're doing."

"Oh." Rodney seems to consider this answer, then replies, "Well, like I said, I'm good."

"I thought you said you were fine?"

"Fine, whatever. I'm fine."

"Good."

The two men stare at each other, and Rodney narrows his eyes at the Colonel in a way that asks if he's doing this on purpose. Sheppard does his best to appear innocent.

The Colonel looks for a moment like he might say something else, then decides against it. "Well, I got some reports I need to write, so…" Sheppard jerks his thumb in the direction of the door, and Rodney nods his understanding. Sheppard hesitates, then turns and begins walking towards the door. Without pausing, he turns again and walks determinedly over to Rodney's bed. "Listen, you want to know the real reason I came here? I came to apologize."

Rodney looks more confused than ever. "Apologize? For what?"

Sheppard glances in my direction, but I just stare stoically back. Turning back to Rodney, he says, "For the way I treated you when you were on the enzyme. I wasn't there for you like I should have been, and I'm sorry."

"Oh." Rodney furrows his brow as he stares at Sheppard. "Okay."

There is a pause, then Sheppard looks at me again, with an expression that asks, "That's it?" I smile back in reply. While the Colonel may be surprised that Rodney can forgive him so easily, I am not. Rodney has forgiven Sheppard many times, sometimes before he even realized there was anything to forgive. It is the nature of their friendship.

Sheppard smiles then, and I am pleased to see Rodney smile back. "Okay then," Sheppard begins, drawing a pack of cards out of his pocket. "Since it seems we have some time to kill, what do you say we introduce Teyla to the wonders of poker?" he beams.

Rodney groans. "Fine, but if we're playing Texas Hold 'Em, I deal. When you deal it makes me too annoyed to concentrate."

"What are you talking about? I'm an excellent dealer!" Sheppard asks, mock hurt in his voice.

With an exasperated roll of his eyes, Rodney says, "You say 'ta da' every time you turn over a community card!"

"I'm just trying to make the game more interesting! Besides, when you're frustrated you can't count the cards."

"Oh, please, like you're not counting the cards just as much as I am!"

Ever the peacemaker, I interrupt their argument. "Gentlemen, what is this game?" Sheppard looks delighted to explain, but I only half-hear his instructions. My mind wanders to thoughts of the broken trust our team has suffered, and the Colonel's small gesture today. There is still much rebuilding to do, but it is a good first step. It may never be what it once was, but all friendships change with time, and ours is no different. Thinking of Aiden, I realize the real challenge is making sure we are all here to change with it. And although that is not something we can control, I plan to try.

oOo

Author's notes: Okay, now that's _really_ it. Unless the bunny bites again. Whatever. ;)


End file.
